Rationale
by clicketykeys
Summary: Just where did Corso Riggs go when he left Darmas and Vacy alone together?


_Just where did Corso Riggs go when he left Darmas and Vacy alone together?_

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><p><strong>Rationale<strong>

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><p><em>Riggs, my personal life is my business.<em>

It wasn't all that far from the Dealer's Den back to the spaceport, but somehow it seemed to take forever. Corso trudged up the ramp to the Defender and looked at the airlock numbly. There wasn't any sense in staying out on the ramp, but he didn't particularly feel like going inside, either. Then again, he knew where he wanted to be… he just wasn't welcome.

He keyed in the code that Bell'aria had given them, turned the arm, and pulled the door open. After he stepped through, he tugged on the handle and it hissed shut again. He stood there blankly for a moment, and then just sat down right there on the steps, leaning against the metal wall.

_I never even had a chance._

Corso closed his eyes and gave in to despair.

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><p>Bell'aria lifted her head. Frowned slightly. She rolled easily from kneeling to standing, the movement smooth from years of practice entering and leaving the simple meditation pose.<p>

Her connection to Corso Riggs was still somewhat tenuous, but the emotional pulses the man was sending off would likely be noticeable to a complete stranger. Well, if that complete stranger was a Jedi, anyway.

Barefoot, she padded out of her quarters and over to the steps that led to the ship's exit. And there he was, slumped in the corner. She walked down the stairs and sat next to him. "Hello, Corso'riggs," she said, blending his name as she had when she'd first met him.

He looked up at that. "Oh, hey," he said with a sigh. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bother you."

The twi'lek shook her head. "No bother." She looked at him for a few moments, then said, "Something disturbs you?" her voice curving up at the end to shape the statement into a question, out of politeness rather than uncertainty. It was pretty obvious.

Corso closed his eyes again, but nodded. "She's with him." His head thudded back against the wall, heavily. "_Again_."

Bell'aria scooted back to sit against the other wall, facing the young man. "Why does this disturb you?" she asked after some thought.

"He's… he's so…" Corso gestured nebulously with one hand, reaching for the words that failed him. "Witty," he finally ground out. "Always with the charm and the flattery."

"You would prefer she show interest in those who are ignorant or who insult her instead?" the Jedi asked with a wry smile.

Corso scowled. "That ain't what I mean, and you know it. He don't _care_ about her is what I mean. And she's so smart." His expression softened, turned wistful, and a quiet smile played over his mouth. "Sees right through to the truth." Sighed. "Usually," he added, and shook his head. He looked over at Bell'aria again. "How come she can't see what he's like?"

Bell'aria thought carefully about how best to phrase her response. "I think perhaps she does – more than you realize." She sighed, realizing that Corso wasn't the sort to understand Vacy's 'generosity.' "She's with him because she knows he doesn't care for her."

The young man's brows drew together in puzzlement. "That don't make any sense."

She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with this discussion, as she wasn't entirely sure how much to share about her friend. "Vacy doesn't like to get attached to others if she can avoid it," Bell'aria explained. "The Jedi Code teaches something similar, though it… doesn't suggest the same, ah, manner of follow-through." She took a breath, thinking quickly to try to find a way to summarize years of study. "Separation is a natural part of life. But when you have formed an attachment, separation causes pain." She shrugged. "And attempting to avoid pain … does that make sense?"

Corso nodded slowly, though he frowned as he thought that through. "I wouldn't ever hurt her, though."

"Perhaps not intentionally. But what about our retreat from the cantina that first night you met me?"

He let out a dismissive 'tchah!', rolling his eyes. "I was fine."

Bell'aria's eyes sparked imperiously. "You were _not_ fine. You almost died, and it would have destroyed her," she retorted before snapping her mouth shut as she realized she'd said more than she had intended to. Resolving to be more judicious, she leaned forward a bit, and put a hand on Corso's shoulder. "She chooses to be with him because he poses no risk. She does not care deeply for him – and she does not believe she ever would."

Corso took a slow breath. "You know her; at least, you've known her longer'n I have." He looked at the twi'lek, and the despair that had plagued his expression was gone. "Do you think she might ever care deeply for somebody?"

It was patently obvious who that 'somebody' was, and Bell'aria bit back a smile. "It wouldn't be easy for her," she ventured. "It would take a long time… even longer before she'd be willing to admit to it. 'Somebody' would have to be very, very patient." She stood, and glanced to the door, hinting a bit. "And if you ever breathe a word of any of this to anyone, Corso, I will be very displeased with you."

Recognizing the dismissal, Corso stood as well, only quailing a little at the implied threat from the Jedi. "No, ma'am," he said with a respectful nod.

"Why don't you head back?" Bell'aria suggested. "Your Captain needs you more than she'd ever say."

For the first time since she'd sat down beside him, she saw his smile reach his eyes as he opened the exit hatch. He stepped out – and then paused, and looked back to her. "Thank you," he said.

And the hope that radiated from him was so strong and pure, she would've sworn she could have touched it.


End file.
